Last month I was walking in Cardiff Bay when I saw a team of men loading barrels, kegs and bottles onto a large motorboat. I wondered where they could be taking all of this beer and asked them. “Is this for the pub on Flat Holme?” I said, referring to the small island just off the coast.

“No, we’re taking it to the bottom of the sea,” answered one of the large dray men.

“Fair enough,” I said, taking his answer to be a sarcastic defence against my curiosity. However, his response earned the irate attention of the finely suited man who had been supervising the loading. He ordered the dray to work faster and then glared at me. “Are you a man, or a beer blogger?” he asked.

The question stunned me. “Well, a beer blogger, I suppose.”

“Never mind. Come with me, parasite, and I will show you what I have built, and the greatest thing you will ever see.”

His attitude intrigued and compelled me. We stepped aboard the launch, the vessel already heavily laden with craft kegs and cask barrels. My host stood at the prow of the boat, impervious to the chill wind that battered me and the crew. He said nothing until, after almost an hour of sailing from Cardiff Bay into the Bristol Channel, we reached an isolated lighthouse built on a craggy rock. A trio of submarines were moored to the base of the rock. While the crew loaded the cargo into the subs, their boss spoke to me.

“I am Andrew Ryan, and I’m here to ask you a question. Is a man not entitled to the beer dispense of his choice?

‘No!’ says the man at CAMRA, ‘You must drink cask.’
‘No!’ says the beer geek at his laptop, ‘It must be craft keg.’
‘No!’ says the trendy hipster in the London bar, ‘It belongs in a dimple mug.’

I rejected those answers; instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose… Rapture, a bar where the casual drinker would not fear tax duty, where the brewer would not be bound by petty pubco ties, where the drunk would not be constrained by the sober! And with the drink of your choice, Rapture can become your bar as well.”

The submarine descended for, well, I don’t know. Ten minutes, ten days, I can’t say, I was too busy marvelling through the port hole at the building on the sea floor, a self-contained Art Deco styled bar, with warm light glowing from the inches-thick polycarbonate windows. Docking took no time at all, and apparently we weren’t deep enough to need decompression time. Within minutes I was faced with what seemed like a mile long bar, adorned by statues of Atlas holding up the Earth and gleaming beer fonts like a regiment of knights. Ryan briefly explained the ethos as I gazed in awe at the ceiling-high bottle fridges. In Rapture, every drink can be served in cask, keg or bottle. If a beer doesn’t come in all dispense methods, Ryan does it himself. “I’ve kegged Timothy Taylor cask ale and casked BrewDog keg beers. A man creates, while a parasite asks ‘is it craft?’”

“All of this seems a bit, well, impossible,” I said.

“It wasn’t impossible to escape the craft versus keg debate at the bottom of the sea. It was impossible to escape it anywhere else.”

By now the dray men had finished unloading, and my extraordinary host had grown tired of my lacklustre company. I left on the next sub, where a passenger brochure declared that several Rapture bars, which Andrew Ryan calls ‘The Great Chain’, will open in various locations off the coast of Britain, including London, Cardiff, Hull and Edinburgh, from 1 June. Further bars are planned worldwide.

The prototype version of Rapture scored poorly in tests with consumer panels.

Most of us did the Great British Beer Festival in London last year, and that was a good gig. CAMRA festivals may not have much razzamatazz, but they’re consistent, and after hearing about the London’s Brewing fiasco I’d prefer a solid outcome over a risky gameplay, especially when it comes down to my country’s beer being showcased before the rest of the world.

As it happens, I live two minutes away from the venue, the Cardiff Motorpoint Arena (sometimes referred to as the CIA/Cardiff International Arena, I think), so it’s easy enough for me and the lads to come and go over the weekend. Of course, not everyone has the same luxury, but I realised all in all, the Motorpoint and Cardiff itself is a decent venue for a large scale national beer festival.

The venue is less than a ten minute walk from the train station, surrounded by hotels, and sits at the bottom end of the city centre. So, after the festival, if you haven’t had enough beer or food, there’s all the decent pubs and bars in Cardiff to explore, be it the nightlife of the centre or the relaxed pace of the Bay. There’s a sense of heavy gravity to London, both awesome and crushing in equal measure, while Cardiff fits comfortably in your back pocket but still offers plenty.

Good beer with good company in a good place. It has all the hallmarks of a great weekend. I can’t wait.

A Pils from the Hills
Brains Craft
5.0%

Is it just me, or is Pilsner something of a Marmite concept? Not in terms of you either love or hate it, but you either worship it or you don’t. Some people are aggressively pro-Pilsner, harbouring a deeply ingrained love for the complex precision of crafting a true Pilsner, and devoutly persecuting heretical pretender-Pilsners. BrewDog’s recent release of Vagabond Pilsner has caused some consternation from drinkers and the like who claim it isn’t a Pilsner*. Meanwhile, the rest of us aren’t too worried as long as it tastes good.

Then again, horses for courses, I have a rather (futile) opinion of what I believe a porter to be, and how it differs from stout. We each have our flag to wave. My point is, I don’t know if a Pils from the Hills qualifies as a true Pils. Can’t say I care too much either. Not my flag to wave. (Edit: having now obtained the pump clip graphic, it states ‘pilsner-style’. So there you go.)

It is pale gold in colour (the modern beer scene hasn’t quite reached Black Pilsner territory yet), with a very earthy aroma, backed up by something I loosely pinned down as a ‘white biscuit’ aroma; you know, a Farley’s Rusk, Rich Tea or Nice biscuit.

The flavour is light and delicate, bringing forward earthy qualities and fresh-cut grass, sweetened by chunks of toffee and a surprising fruit presence of pears, green apples and under ripe hedgerow berries. Overall, it reminds me of Zatecs, with a creamier body and a fruitier taste. Do places still sell Zatecs in the UK? I’ve not seen it in years.

A Pils from the Hils is what it is: one for the summer, to be kegged and served in tall pint glasses dripping with cold condensation, before being taken to a beer garden. So what are you waiting for Brains? The summer is here at last; you fill those kegs and we’ll empty ‘em.

*Google ‘Vagabond Pilsner’ and read the various opinions; since this isn’t a review on Vagabond Pilsner, I’ll say no more.

Sunday 28 April saw Fire Island playing host to the Waen Brewery for their latest ‘Meet the Brewer’ session. Based in Llanidloes, Powys, the Waen Brewery stands tall alongside other great Welsh breweries such as Otley, Tiny Rebel and Celt. Waen (pronounced wine) started business in 2009 and already their beers can be found all over; I even stumbled across the Sick & Twisted in deepest darkest Dewsbury not long ago.

Owner and brewer Sue Hayward came along to answer technical questions, while tasting tutor Ed Davies (day-vis, not day-vees), led us through the beer tastings. Taking a prompt from Tom Newman at last week’s session, Fire Island set up the event at a table in the main bar, rather than the piano room. The table sign, seven million sampling glasses and jugs of beer flashed the message loud and clear, telling people where the event was being held.

Fire Island had definitely upped their game on last week, with attentive staff clearing away sampling glasses, bringing new ones, and delivering a buffet of epic proportions. Forget triangle cut sandwiches and bowls of crisps; this was lip-smacking barbecued ribs, smoked beef brisket rolls, thick cut potato wedges and plates of nachos.

It was a very intimate event, with two brewers, six attendees and the occasional bar staff looking in. Fire Island could easily grow it and pack out the piano room if they push the advertising and shift it to a weekday, and if that’s what they want they may need to do it quick before they run out of local brewers.

Intimacy is no bad thing, though, as it led to a very organic event where Sue and Ed learned as much from us as we did from them, effectively turning us into a small focus panel. They weren’t quite letting on their future plans, with subtle hints at opening a new bar and launching new beers, but the Waen Brewery is definitely growing. In Summer they will be expanding their capacity, going up from a 5 barrel plant to either an 18 or 23 barrel plant (don’t worry, they know which, I just didn’t jot down the figures). All of this means if you haven’t tried Waen beers before, you’re a lot more likely to in the near future, and rightly so.

Tiny Rebel Brew Co will be at the next Meet the Brewer event on Sunday 12 May. It may be a struggle making the effort to get out of the house on a Sunday evening, but it’s the best £6 you can spend in Cardiff.

The tastings

TWA (Traditional Welsh Ale) – 3.7%: A gentle bitter style beer with plenty of sweetness, in both aroma and flavour, in the form of caramel, shortcake and digestive biscuit. Made to a carefully researched old Welsh style, this is a very easy going beer.

Janner’s Pride -  4.0%: Somewhere between an old ale and a bitter in style, this has Christmas spice, ginger and malt loaf flavours, with a brilliant, subtle roasted finish. I didn’t think too much at first, but with a little time it developed into my one of favourites.

Sick & Twisted: Now we’re entering the territory that puts the Waen Brewery on the map: speciality beers. Sick & Twisted is made with cocoa and coconut; the dark chocolate influence is up front, but the coconut hides shyly in the background (sorry). A beautiful beer that stands out; truly, after a millon-and-one beers on a stag do pub crawl, the Sick & Twisted in Dewsbury cut through them all.

Chilli Plum Porter – 6.1%: This is arguably their most famous beer and has won regional SIBA awards. The green chilli used in the brew gives this rich, dark beer a hearty warmth rather than a spicy flavour, and sweet but gentle plum flavours provide further balance.

Landmark Ale – 5.5%: A pale, hoppy IPA made with Summit and Fuggles hops. It was one of the most popular beers at the tasting, but after my senses had been battered by chillies I was beyond being able to pick out the flavour in Landmark.

You can follow Sue Hayward on Twitter at @The Waen Brewery, and visit the Waen Brewery website here. Ed Davies on Twitter is @WelshEddie86 and his blog is studentbrewer.blogspot.com

Disclaimer: Any and all errors are my own; such are the hazards of mentally taking notes while drinking beer.

They had come in full force: Tom Newman, the head brewer, Gav, the lead brewer, and Gav’s wife Kelly. However, there was a broken link between the brewers and the attendees. In the absence of any signage or information on the ticket, or hosting from the Fire Island staff, no one really knew where the event was being held. So, for over an hour I was an audience of one, until Tom went for a wander and managed to round up a mob of clueless stragglers. After that the evening moved into full swing.

It didn’t daunt Tom in the slightest. He was everything you would expect from Wales’ only Beer Sommelier, as well as being Celt’s Head Brewer and Managing Director; whether it was a crowd of one or one dozen, he discussed the beers with passion and clarity, guiding people through the tastings.

Astonishingly, Gav has only been brewing for around 14 months. At least this is astonishing to me, as I’ve been homebrewing on-and-off for years without coming close to professional standards; in the meantime, Gav has progressed from homebrewer to Celt’s lead brewer via Brewlab’s course, and confidently rattles off brewing terms as if he’s been brewing for 14 years. He also hosts weekly online video Q&A sessions , and is one of the leading pioneers on smoking hops (probably for brewing research, I’m sure this has nothing to do with hops being related to cannabis).

Six beers were laid out for tasting: Golden, Silures, Dark Age, Danish Monster, Willow and Ash. Golden is a pale, hop-led ale, with a crisp, refreshing profile and tropical fruit taste making it an ideal thirst quencher. Dark Age is one of their darkest beers, falling somewhere between mild or porter, and is made up of eight different malts. Silures I don’t really remember, while Danish Monster I remember very well. Golden, Silures, and Dark Age fall within the core range, while Danish Monster is part of the Shapeshifter series, a sort of seasonal/experimental range. Danish Monster is a bit special, and worth hunting out. Despite the name, it isn’t an aggressive hop bomb. An ethic that underpins all of Celt’s beers is a sense of balance, even in their stronger drinks.

Ash and Willow are part of the Ogham series, which is the high-end craft geek premium selection. Ogham refers to an old Celtic language, and is part of Celt’s overall brand style of drawing from ancient Celtic history, druidic imagery and folklore. Ash is an Imperial Stout, a 10.5% powerhouse that demanded time and respect when drunk, perhaps while in front of the telly on a Sunday evening after a big roast dinner. Willow is a Double IPA. With so many beers flying around, it’s hard to remember how it tasted, but I do know it made the Danish Monster seem like a gentle palate cleanser in comparison.

It was also interesting to learn about Celt’s growing export market. They ship to Japan, Chile, Mexico, Scandinavia, and have their eyes set on taking over Russia. They’ve recently made a collaboration beer with Boxing Cat Brewery in Shanghai, called Cat Scratched Celt, and they brewed a batch last week, so it should be with the UK market soon.

Meeting the Celt Experience and sampling their newer releases left me wanting to track down all of their beers. That’s what everyone wants from a ‘meet the brewer’ evening, surely? Teething troubles aside, Fire Island is top notch venue for this sort of thing, and this Sunday they are hosting the Waen Brewery. You’ve not lived if you haven’t tried their Chilli Plum Porter. Brave the rain, buy a ticket and take the ride. Just remember to head to the piano room at the back.

“They ran the whole gamut from genuine talents and honest men, to degenerates and hopeless losers who could barely write a post-card – loons and fugitives and dangerous drunks … most of them working just long enough to make the price of a few drinks and a plane ticket.”
-          The Rum Diary, Hunter S. Thompson

Today’s contractors aren’t too dissimilar from the journalists who worked alongside Thompson in the late 1950s. I know because I’m one of those degenerates currently working a project alongside honest men and hopeless losers. We’re an odd assortment ranging from former solicitors, complaint handlers and insurance underwriters, to teachers, drunks and gamblers, all turning our mixed bag of skills to the project at hand.

It’s a high-risk, high-reward industry, where you’re viewed as something between skilled artisan and cannon fodder. If the client or their project managers take a single dislike to you then you’re back on the job market without a second chance. Whispers throughout the office of someone being shown the door before the day is done are not uncommon, and never wrong, and we’re not surprised if we learn so-and-so has packed it all in to fly off to Australia or Thailand.

At any moment the word could come down from the client that the project has run its course and we’re done; clear your desk and don’t come back tomorrow, send us your final invoice and sod off. Or, worse still, yet another bloody extension, yet another truck load of case files to have done before the regulator beats us senseless with a variety of large clubs.

Pitched in with strangers from different backgrounds, tasked with a project that may stretch to infinity or end tomorrow, working 50 to 60 hour weeks in a volatile environment where the man next to you may disappear during lunch, how do we not tear each other to shreds in a paranoid frenzy?

Every Friday lunch time, regardless of how many cases the client needs done by 5pm, or how big a fine the regulator is threatening, we go to the pub. We sit down, we order in pints and burgers and pulled pork sandwiches and whatever else, and for a golden hour we talk, and laugh, and relax. No canteen or café could cut it.

It is our lighthouse on the rocks, guiding us through the turbulent week, giving us a glimmer of hope and passage to the weekend.  It is our fortress, a place to gather together the broken pieces of our humanity and return to the fray as better people. It is our nourishment for the body, mind and soul. It is our Friday lunchtime pub.

“What’s the word on street, Johnny?”

There’s not a great deal of news on the Cardiff beer scene lately. Well, other than the rebrand of the Artisan Brewery, maybe. The Bare Naked Beer branding has been destroyed as per court order, and the new branding of ‘Pipes’ has been unveiled. Notice how Pipes is an anagram for Pepsi? A subtle two-fingers aimed at the corporation that caused them so much hassle, perhaps.

Meanwhile, the new brewer at Zero Degrees, Alex, has brewed a pale ale called Urban Gull. This has been made using the ingredients to hand left over by the previous brewer, who also left plenty of brewed stock to ensure a seamless transition. The word is that Alex isn’t too thrilled with the ingredients he found on his arrival, so this hints at some new innovative brews to come at Zero Degrees once he gets going. New kolsch glasses may also be on the cards for Zero Degrees.

On the pub side, the Gatekeeper is rumoured to have a cracking beer festival on, while Fire Island have started doing ‘Meet the Brewer’ events. They currently take place on (most) Sundays at 6pm. For £6, you get a buffet, a flight of beers, and a chance to meet the brewer. On April 7 they hosted Otley; on April 21 Celt Experience will be visiting, and on the 28^th it will the Waen Brewery. Tickets are available on request at the bar.

Following the catastrophic boiler failure at the Goat Major during National Pie Week, they are thinking of giving it another go later in the year and bringing out all of the special pie recipes they previously developed. Nothing is certain at this time, though.

I heard all of this from a bloke in a pub, so it must be true.

Brains Original Stout
Brains Brewery
4.1%

If Brains made a porter it would probably be my favourite beer in their core range. Well constructed malt recipes make the dark beer, rather than buckets of hops, and Brains seem to know their way around the malt shed. They don’t have a porter, however, so their Original Stout is the closest thing. It’s not even part of their core range, really, I’ve never seen it in their pubs. You’re more likely to find it in Tesco or Morrison’s, along with their emerging Craft Brewery beers.

It pours a very dark, chestnut red colour with a generous, off-white head that provides plenty of lacing on the glass as the beer goes down. There’s not much to the aroma, mainly some noticeable dusty cocoa notes.

The flavour is predominantly rich, with powdered cocoa and treacle notes. Beneath that there are hints of earthy, woody flavours, and the smashed remnants of some English fruit, left battered, broken and unrecognisable by the wagon train of burnt coffee notes that thunder on toward the dry, bitter finish.

It’s one of those “refreshing” drinks that deliver a false economy or negative feedback loop even: the astringency is not unpleasant, but dry enough to have you supping more of the beer in an attempt to quench the dryness caused by the beer, and so on.

Not a complex stout in any sense; this is more of an old world stout, as old school as Guinness or Mackeson’s, and holding its own alongside either of them.

Barry Island IPA
Brains Craft (in collaboration with Simon Martin)
6.0%

Barry Island IPA goes back to where it all began for Brains Craft, alongside All At Sea. It’s also one of the few expressions of the highly prolific Brains Craft range that is readily available outside of the Brain’s pub estate; your local Tesco or Morrison’s may well stock it in the bottle aisle.

It stands out the moment you smell it; it’s bursting at the seams with tropical fruit flavours, passion fruit, mango, grapefruit, and lychee, all layered with sweet caramel. In the glass it has a crisp, golden-orange hue, a firm white head and offers plenty of lacing on the glass.

From the get-go this is a very firm beer, with a bold, punchy mouth feel led by a citrus rind taste and backed up by melon, mango, and warming papaya. It then gives way to a long, zesty, dry citrus finish.

Even the high hop, high alcohol profile can’t quite hide the characteristic Brains’ biscuit malt base signature. Later Brains Craft expressions move away from their parent brewery’s core malt profile, but Barry Island still has hints of it. In rare instances I also thought I caught a hint of saltiness; the sensation was inescapable, but probably imagined, brought about by the beer’s links to the eponymous seaside resort of Barry Island.

Salt ghosts aside, Barry Island is definitely a refreshing, eye-opening beer. Along with the sharp, citrus flavours, it’s not hiding its 6.0%, either. You feel it. This’ll pick you up after a heavy, sleep-inducing roast dinner and cut through fatty, savoury flavours, setting you up for a light, fruity dessert.

It’s a positively rowdy beer, and it stands as a visible milestone showing where the Craft Brewery began and how far they’ve come since; more recent expressions are generally a shade more subtle. Despite all the rambunctious imagery I’ve bandied about, this is a downright quaffable beer.

Given the timing of their announcement, Brains Craft Brewery’s latest beer is either an elaborate April Fool’s Day joke, or their most ambitious experimental beer to date. A fairly common base of malted barley, unmalted wheat, and Fuggles and Goldings hops is matured for twelve months in open barrels, allowing wild yeasts to gradually ferment it to produce a lambic style beer. The lambic style is typically cloudy and sour, and usually associated with Belgium. Due to the complexity and time taken to produce beer under the whims of nature, not many breweries attempt it. The sour notes produced are also a little alien to the British palate; we tend to equate beer sourness with being spoiled.

If you’re thinking Lamb-ic is a starting to sound like a clever Welsh pun on the beer style, get this – Brains also threw a load of Welsh lamb chops in the barrels for good measure. April Fool’s, right? Maybe. There are some North American breweries that make beer with bacon, such as Rogue Ale’s Voodoo Maple Bacon Ale and HogsBack’s Aporkalypse Now, and these meat pioneers inspired the Brains’ team to make Lamb-ic unsuitable for vegetarians.

For that final touch, when the barman pours your pint he’ll add sprinkles of mint on top to give it a bit of zing. Ok, Brains, we’re done here; you’re pulling our leg! It’s definitely very interesting if true, and probably unlike any other beer on the British scene right now. We’ll know for sure by April 5^th, when the beer is due to be launched in a select range of Brains’ pubs.

Serving suggestion: mint sprinkles in the shape of a lamb. I said we were done here – we’ve rumbled your prank, Brains!